


Namesake

by Blizzaurus



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abby and Marcus lay in a bed and talk, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, and some sad tears are shed, some happy tears are shed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzaurus/pseuds/Blizzaurus
Summary: Set after 4x13. Two weeks after Praimfaya, Abby visits Marcus in the middle of the night to tell him that she is not going to try to fix her brain. Curiously, he ends up being the happiest he has ever been by the end of the conversation.





	Namesake

**Author's Note:**

> Marcus and Abby were left in such a devastating point in the show that I just had to write something happy to calm my nerves after the finale.

Marcus found Abby curled up on his bed, soundly asleep.

For a moment he just stared at her, trying to process what he was seeing. In the end, it was really her, and it was his bed she was sleeping on. 

Marcus suspected that she had come to see him and had fallen asleep when he had not returned until just now, at this very late hour. A late hour according to the bunker's lighting regulation schedule, at least. 

_Abby had come to see him._

The realization made his burdened heart lighten slightly in his chest.

The sight in front of him was surprising as the last time he had seen her in the corridor she had marched straight by him, letting her shoulder jab him in the side. Marcus would not have expected anything else based on her reaction after waking up the night of the second culling. 

She had not been furious the way Marcus had expected. It had been worse. She had laid still on the infirmary bed long after everyone else had risen up, gaze cold and hollow. Marcus had tried to reason with her, brought up the list and emphasized her importance, but in vain. Abby would not even look at him. 

Finally, Marcus had told her he loved her. 

With a frosty voice, Abby had asked him to get out of her sight.

When he had refused to leave her side, Jackson had made Miller escort him out. 

Marcus had stood in the corridor, trying to restrain himself from barging back in the room and repeating everything he had said to her all over again until she finally understood his view. But then Jackson had come out of the door and approached him. He had told Marcus the truth about Abby's condition. And Marcus's whole world had come crashing down. He had been so close to losing her and now his worst fear was made into reality yet again. 

Jackson had tried to reassure him by telling him about Raven's cure but even then Marcus hardly could bear seeing Abby every day without knowing if it had worked since she refused to talk with him. Or if she had even accepted the treatment. 

He did not know which was worse, the fact that she was ill or that she had not told him. It made him sick to his stomach that she had been silently suffering all this time and feeling worthless enough to try to sacrifice her own life. He should have been there to hold her and lead her through it, and he still wanted to, but he was not sure if Abby would allow him to be near her in that way ever again. 

The fact that she was here now in his bed filled his heart with overwhelming hope. He did not dare to wish that she had forgiven him, but this indicated that she felt comfortable enough to try approach him in the middle of the night and wait for him until sleep took over. 

Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. His mouth curved upwards as he watched the serene sleeping figure. He ached to gather her in his arms, feel her close to his heart again. But he kept his hands carefully to his sides, not wanting to even accidentally brush her. 

After a while, Abby shifted her position, her eyes slowly blinking open. They fluttered wide when she registered Marcus watching her in the darkness. 

"I can leave," Marcus croaked, unsure if his company was welcome or not. 

"No, don't go," Abby said. She placed her hand on top of his.

Marcus looked at her hand, then lifted his eyes to meet hers. Abby offered him a tired smirk. "This is your bed, where would you even go?"

Relief washed over Marcus when he saw Abby's smile. He let out a throaty chuckle and looked away, feeling a little bewildered by the sight. It had been so long since the last time she had looked at him like that. 

Abby propped herself up slowly. He felt her start to lean against him, cheek brushing his shoulder. When Marcus turned his eyes on her, confused by the contact, an almost affectionate look seemed to cross her face. 

Abby seemed to see the question in his eyes that he could not quite bring himself to voice. _Why are you here?_

"I came to tell you something."

His chest constricted painfully, all the lightness inside disappearing in just a fraction of second. Abby turned her eyes downwards, drawing her mouth into a thin line which made Marcus nervous. She started to withdraw from him, her hand slowly edging away from his. He caught it and entwined their fingers.

"Is this about your brain?" 

He cast her a look that he wished would convey that he would be there for her, whatever her news was.

"Raven told you how to fix it, right?" he continued when Abby kept silent.

"Yes."

"Did it work?" Marcus asked with a hoarse voice. 

"We didn't do the procedure."

Marcus dropped her hand. "Abby—" he began, voice trembling. 

How could she not understand how important she was, to their people, to Clarke, to him? How could she not see how the very thought of living in a world without her made Marcus's hands clench into fists around the sheets until his knuckles turned white? 

He would not allow her to do this to herself. Even if it meant her hating him for the rest of his life, he would make sure that she would live to see her daughter again. 

Marcus was just about to stand up and storm out, wrench Jackson from his bed and ask him how he was okay with this, when Abby grabbed his arm. 

"Jackson ran some tests before we even attempted it, Marcus. My brain is fine."

Marcus blinked.

The one sentence he had been desperate to hear for weeks had just been uttered but instead of being overjoyed, he was just extremely confused. 

"But the symptoms—"

"At this point I am well aware of my symptoms," Abby whispered forcefully, cheeks flushed. "And you should not worry about any of them."

She turned her head to avoid his gaze and resumed her curled-up position on the mattress.

"Jackson told me you have been having fits of nausea for a while now," Marcus hissed as he leaned over to her. "There must be something wrong."

"There's nothing wrong with me," she muttered into her pillow. "There's just—"

Abby clamped her mouth shut.

"No, just forget it," she whimpered and grabbed the duvet. 

Marcus watched, puzzled, as the woman hid herself under the covers. It was as if she was embarrassed. Marcus ran fingers through his hair, not knowing what he was supposed to do. Comfort her? But about what?

She did not seem to have any intention of leaving his bed which Marcus took as a good sign. Abby was going to open up to him eventually. 

He tested the waters, leaning his body slightly against the mattress. There were no sounds of protest. 

"May I?"

Abby made a tiny voice of affirmation. She let her head peep out under the covers and watched as Marcus crawled into the bed slowly, careful not to invade too much of her space. But the bed was narrow and their faces ended up mere inches apart. 

Marcus watched as the woman's dark eyelashes fluttered. Her eyes opened and closed, fighting sleep. Marcus tentatively reached out his hand, and after seeing Abby's gaze soften, he cradled her face. 

"Are you sure you're alright?"

She leaned to press a kiss on the wrinkle between Marcus's eyebrows. 

"Always so worried," she said, offering him a drowsy smile. 

"Impossible not to be when it comes to you," he breathed out.

Marcus allowed himself to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer. She let her head fall, settling it on the crook of his neck. The woman fit in his arms perfectly. Her chest against his chest, fingers entwined and legs tangled together, everything was alright in the world again. 

The last time she had allowed him to hold her this close had been two weeks ago when the Praimfaya had hit. Abby had momentarily dropped her anger at him and reached out for him when the shaking started. Without hesitation, Marcus had captured her in his arms. He had let her tears soak the front of his shirt as she wept, and kept repeating that Clarke was safe, that their plan had surely worked, and that she would see her again. 

When she had wrenched herself away from him, her eyes had still been watery and her breathing uneven. But she had not wanted his soothing any longer. She had escaped from his touch and his strangled calls of her name. It had broken his heart that she did not want to be comforted. He would try to make it up for her now, by trying to make his embrace the safest place in the world for her to be. 

Marcus pressed a kiss on Abby's head, tightening his grip of her hand. When he could feel Abby's calm breaths against his neck, he smiled. He slung his other arm around her and began gently stroking her hair. 

She would tell him what she was going through when she was ready. Whatever it was, he could take it, and they would think of a solution together, as always.

Eventually, Abby whispered something barely audible into his skin. The only word Marcus could make out was "father". 

Marcus continued lazily playing with the strands of her hair. "What was that?" 

She kept drawing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb, taking a hesitant pause. Abby shifted her head to let her cheek rest on his chest. Then she whispered a sentence against his heart that made it briefly cease to beat. 

"You are going to be a father."

A silence. 

Marcus's hand remained hovering above Abby's head, frozen. He was not sure if he had heard her correctly. "What did you say?"

"I'm pregnant, Marcus," she sighed and fell silent, waiting for Marcus's reaction. But all his words were stuck in his throat, unable to escape and voice just what kind of a storm of emotions he was experiencing right now.

Abby continued. "Jackson and I spent the whole day testing and retesting and rechecking the results. All my symptoms were apparently only symptoms of pregnancy. The EMP must have fried my implant, that's the only explanation I can give." 

Marcus remained quiet.

Abby lifted her head to take a careful peek at his expression, clearly expecting him to say something, anything. Marcus opened his mouth. 

"This is — a surprise," he croaked out, trying to blink away the sudden dampness from his eyes.

"Good kind of a surprise?"

Abby was watching him with nervous eyes, hardly even breathing while waiting for the response. Marcus laid his eyes on the vulnerable woman beside him, his heart filling with so much love it his chest could not contain it. 

Marcus clasped his arms around her neck, burying her in his embrace. "The best kind, Abby. The best kind," he whispered into her hair with a shaky voice. Abby deflated in his arms, making Marcus wrap her even tighter against him while every single possible thought of worry ran through his head. 

"The gas!" Marcus realized. "It didn't harm for the baby, did it?"

"No it didn't." Abby shook her head. But her gaze seemed to darken as she remembered being knocked out and saved against her will. She wriggled out of his arms and Marcus let her. 

They were wrapped into a tense silence. Abby turned over. For a moment Marcus thought she would rise up and leave, and he did not know what it would mean for them if she did that. 

He reached out for her shoulder in one more desperate attempt to make her stay. "Abby, I want nothing more in life than to be part of this."

Abby tensed under his touch. 

"I know you haven't forgiven me and probably never will," Marcus added and looked down guiltily. "But I love you. I love you so much I can hardly breathe sometimes. Please let me be there for you, even if you don't feel the same way any-"

This made Abby turn around to face him with a fierce look in her eyes. 

"Marcus! Of course I still love you."

His breath hitched in his throat. 

Abby continued. "No amount of idiotic life-saving actions is going to change that. And I wouldn't have come here if I didn't want you around," she sighed. "I hoped you would want to be around—"

"How could you even doubt that?" Marcus asked with strangled voice. 

Abby's expression softened. She laid a hand on his cheek. 

"—but whether you liked the news or not, you were going to be a father."

A pause. 

Marcus's eyes widened.

"I'm going to be a father." 

Abby rolled her eyes in a fond fashion as Marcus started to properly progress this information. He rolled on his back and let out a puff of air. He stared intensely at the ceiling, as if to determine if the universe was playing a joke on him or not.

"I'm going to be a father," he repeated and turned his shining eyes back at her, chuckling. Abby tried to hush Marcus, who clamped a hand on his mouth to stifle his own laughter, but she could not help but break into giggles too when she kept watching the dopey smile on his face. 

He felt a bit dizzy. There had been certain fantasies in his head that he had not allowed himself to entertain for the most of his life. One of them was a scenario where Abby loved him back. Another one was a sweet little image of a daughter clinging to his uniform jacket and Marcus smiling at her, reaching down to lift her in his arms. 

Now both of these dreams had been realized and it was all _very_ overwhelming. 

Marcus tried to swallow back the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. 

"Of course I sometimes wished, but I never thought I would actually—" 

"Oh Marcus," Abby said and cupped his jaw. "You are going to be the most wonderful father."

Maybe he would be decent enough if he did the opposite of everything his own father had done. 

"I am going to be a terrible father. I'll pamper her to pieces."

"Her?" Abby curved her eyebrow.

"I have that kind of a feeling, don't you?" Marcus smiled the broadest smile to no one in particular. "I can already see myself hopelessly wrapped around her little finger. She is not going to accept no as an answer."

The booming joy in his chest kept growing and growing as he let himself for the first time in his life properly indulge in these thoughts. He looked at Abby. If the girl got her beauty, her kindness and her intelligence, frankly, everything from her — she would not have a worry in the world.

"I doubt she'll be that stubborn," Abby snorted.

"She will be, if she comes to her mother."

"Oh you bastard," she laughed and nuzzled against his neck. Her beautiful, tinkling little giggles made Marcus's eyes crinkle from happiness. How could the world, which had seemed so bleak and hopeless just a moment ago, have turned into this beautiful dream? 

"If I understand correctly, you love me, you are healthy and not mad at me anymore, and in several months we will have a baby." Marcus shot her an incredulous look. "Are you sure we aren't still in the City of Light?"

Abby chuckled and stroke his beard with a fond look on her face. She lifted her head to lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

Marcus closed his eyes to enjoy the feather-light touch. But far too soon her lips parted from his skin. 

He opened his eyes, his gaze flickering to her mouth again and then back to her eyes, searching for permission. Abby's eyes fluttered shut which Marcus took as encouragement. He leaned in and joined their lips. 

They shared a lazy, lingering kiss before he reluctantly let go to survey the environment. One grounder man still awake guiltily averted his gaze after Marcus shot him a glare. 

Marcus wrenched the cover over their heads. Abby let out a tiny gasp when he captured her lips. But it did not take long for her to melt into the kiss. She seemed to have missed this as much as he had based on her frantic response as Marcus deepened the kiss. 

"What was that?" she laughed as they finally parted with a wet smack, noses bumping together. 

"Can't a man kiss the mother of his child under the privacy of his duvet?" 

She did not answer but he could feel her warm smile against his skin. 

Marcus settled his head right beside Abby's and let his inhales and exhales fall into peaceful rhythm with hers.

Together, they laid still under the cover, completely wrapped in each other. 

Marcus started slowly mapping her face with his fingers. He could not see her under the duvet's darkness but he could feel every wrinkle of joy in the corners of her mouth and every happy tear that had fallen on her skin. He dried her cheeks with his hands and slid them through her silky hair to the back of her head. He brought her face closer again for another yearning kiss. 

After they broke apart, she fell silent. 

"I need you to do something for me," she started.

"For you, anything," he whispered, smiling, and leaned in to steal one more little kiss. But Abby evaded his lips, pulling herself out from the covers. Marcus pushed the duvet off, and in the dim light of the room he saw that her expression had grown serious. His smile faded away. 

"Forgive me," Abby breathed out.

"Forgive you?" Marcus creased his forehead. 

The woman in his arms let out a faint sob in response, breaking his heart. 

He tightened his hold of her and started pressing tiny kisses on the crown of her head. 

"Don't cry," he whispered between kisses. "Please don't cry. Why would I need to forgive you? You have just made me—" 

Abby let out a strangled sound.

"—The happiest man on earth." Marcus reached out to brush off the tears from her eyes. There were so much pain in her gaze that he could hardly bear it. How long had she kept it bottled up inside her? 

"But after everything I have done—"

Marcus took her face in his hands, putting on his most determined expression. "You are still my Abby, the most compassionate, the most kindhearted and thoughtful woman in the whole world. The woman who saved me."

Abby closed her eyes and released another sob. He cast her the most tender of looks. 

"I know you don't believe any of that now, but if you accept — I'd like to spend the rest of my life trying to make you."

Abby blinked her tearful eyes, her mouth opening just a fraction in confusion. 

"Was that a—"

She let the sentence go unfinished, leaving the implication hanging heavy in the air. 

Marcus considered the words he had let spill from his lips. "I guess so," he eventually answered and let out a nervous chuckle. "I mean, it doesn't have to mean just that if you don't—"

Abby's response was a smile so radiant her eyes slanted into glistening little streaks. She released a shaky little laugh. "Of course— she sniffled. "Of course I accept, you silly man. I love you."

Her words were so beautiful Marcus started to wonder if his life had even started before hearing them.

Abby quietened down again and Marcus started caressing her scalp. They began their long night. Each time Marcus noticed her gaze growing misty he tightened his grip on her and coaxed her to speak to him. She let out everything from her remorse to her worries about Clarke to the baby and what it would mean for their share of the bunker. He held her and listened to her until her breathing evened out and her eyes dried, becoming droopy from exhaustion. 

"I'm sorry for keeping you up all night," she yawned.

"That is going to be my privilege from now on."

Abby curled up against him, letting her eyes fall closed. "I just wish everything could be alright again just for one second."

"It's not going to be easy," Marcus sighed. "But we have each other. And we always have hope."

"Hope," she hummed sleepily. Her hand shifted to protectively cover her belly. 

"Yes, Hope," Marcus said and smiled. "It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

His chest was flooded with affection as Abby answered with a snore against his shirt. 

He brushed off some strands, letting his fingers skim her peaceful face. He leaned in to drop a kiss on her forehead. 

"We are going to be just okay," Marcus whispered.


End file.
